When our life becomes tossed and mangled
do we find a way to become untangled in the wicked web we weaved
of deceit, pain, and selfishness
Yet we survive through starvation and genocide, and even the
little white lies that we have yet to hide
Are we creations of a superior being, who loves of wholly
without regards to our imperfections, carelessness, fiendnessess
Or are we merely pieces of a puzzle to whom the pieces do not fit.
When we are afraid to admit who we are within, spawns of the ultimate sins
Though our inspirations come to bind us to all that is holy, we have yet to aspire the true faith of those we hold knowingly.
We are mere pawns in this game of chess, playing for life, and loosing to death.
Checkmate.